


Huzzah!

by HollyeLeigh



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Acting, F/M, Flirting, Girls' Night Out, Kissing, Las Vegas, Medieval Times AU, tournament of kings au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 13:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14770790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyeLeigh/pseuds/HollyeLeigh
Summary: A Girls' Night Out in Vegas does not go as planned when Emma, Ruby, and Mary Margaret must settle for seeing Tournament of Kings instead of Thunder From Down Under.





	Huzzah!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pirateherokillian (Pirateherokillian)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pirateherokillian/gifts).



> Gifted to @pirateherokillian for the @csficformal.
> 
> Inspired by my family’s recent trip to Las Vegas. We went to see Tournament of Kings, and it reminded me of a Medieval Times AU I thought about writing some time ago. I’ve mixed elements from both experiences, and took some big creative license with the actual show in order to give Killian and Emma more interaction.
> 
> Much love to @kmomof4 and @artistic-writer for giving this a once over for me!

 

* * *

 

“I told you we should have gotten tickets earlier in the week,” Ruby groused as they waited in line for the doors to open.

“Oh, cheer up,” Mary Margaret chirped. “This will be just as fun.”

“As fun as watching hot Australian men strip down to less than their skivvies? I doubt it,” Ruby grumbled.

“There are attractive men in this show, too,” Mary Margaret tried to appease. “And horses.”

“Yippee,” Ruby muttered. “I’m sure Ems considers that an even trade to oiled up hotties.”

“It’s fine, guys. Really,” Emma assured. “I’m sure this will be fun, too.”

“Absolutely,” Mary Margaret cheered. “None of us knew _Thunder From Down Under_ would sell out, so I intend to make the best out of the option before us.”

The line began to move, and the three women were escorted to their seats in the front row of the arena. It was the final night all three of them would be together in _Sin City_ , and they had wanted to take in a show. Ruby had suggested the male strip tease, but the performance was sold out due to a number of bachelorette parties that had pre-purchased group tickets. Their only other option, without having to leave their hotel, was the medieval themed dining experience _Tournament of Kings_ ; a live action production that included a three course meal - sans utensils - while audience members cheered for various _kings_ competing in an Arthurian style tournament, complete with sword fights and jousting on horseback.

“Good evening, ladies,” their server greeted. “Welcome to the Ireland section. What can I get you to drink this evening?”

Emma ordered herself a glass of wine then took a moment to take in her surroundings as Ruby and Mary Margaret placed their orders. The arena was horseshoe shaped with a stage area located at the open end. A series of countries spanned the oval, with their section, Ireland, situated right next to the stage. Other countries included Russia, Norway, Spain, Austria, Hungary, and France as well as a section simply labeled _Dragon_.

Emma and her friends chatted as they enjoyed the soup course, reflecting over the week they’d shared together. Early the next morning, Mary Margaret would be on a plane heading back to Storybrooke, Maine, having flown in the week before to help her friends settle into their new life in Las Vegas. As their main course was served, Merlin took the stage to kick off the show with The Court Jester. Although the intro was a bit hokey, by the time the actors got the crowd _huzzahing_ , pounding the counters in front of them, and toasting with a hearty _here, here_ , Emma had to admit that she was having a good time. Even Ruby was smiling.

“My Lords and Ladies,” Merlin announced. “It is now time to welcome your kings!”

A loud cheer erupted from the crowd. Emma found herself joining in, pounding her palms against the counter in front of her as she yelled _huzzah_ with the rest of her section when the King of Ireland was announced.

He rode in on a black horse and circled the arena, ending his triumphal entry in front of his section as he waved and nodded to the crowd. Emma nearly choked on her chicken at the sight of him. Dark disheveled hair, much shorter than his _competitors’_ , but still with a wisp of bang swept over his forehead. Piercing blue eyes and expressive brows accompanied a dusting of auburn scruff that highlighted his lopsided grin. In a word… the man was gorgeous, and Emma had seen her fair share of attractive men since arriving on the Strip. The Irish King met her gaze and his eyes widened with interest before he offered a wink. Emma suddenly felt rather warm and flagged down their server to ask for some water.

“Holy shit, he’s hot!” Ruby declared appreciatively as he rode to the center of the arena to await the other countries’ kings. “I’lI take it all back if the rest of them look as good as he does.”

The rest of kings were announced, many of them very attractive in their own right, but Emma didn’t think any of them could really compare to the Irish King. Especially after she heard him deliver his lines.

“Oh, my god. Is that real?”

Although each actor spoke with an accent that represented his country, the Irish King’s sounded like the only genuine one. Emma was barely paying attention to the lines being delivered, too caught up in studying her section’s champion to actually follow the story, so it caught her off guard to see him riding towards her.

“Good evening, fair maidens,” he greeted with a quirked brow. “Might I have the honor of your golden haired companion’s name?”

Emma was staring. And she was pretty sure her mouth was hanging open. And it took her a minute to realize that she was the golden haired one among them. What was her name again?

“Emma,” Mary Margaret offered enthusiastically. “Her name is Emma.”

Emma snapped out of her stupor. “Um, yeah. Emma Swan.”

“A pleasure, My Lady Swan,” he replied with a somewhat courtly bow from his saddle. “Would you, fair Emma, offer me a token of your esteem, so that I might have favor in today’s contests?”

Emma stared into his too blue eyes with furrowed brows. She had no idea what he meant.

He leaned over and whispered, “Just a simple trinket I can use for this next bit. You’ll get it back when the show’s over, love. Promise.”

Emma felt her cheeks burn at the endearment, and she wracked her brain for something to give him.

“Oh!” She pulled her new apartment key from her purse and removed it from the compass keychain it had come with. “Will this work?” She set the compass in his gloved hand and worried her lip as she awaited his response.

“Aye, love,” he replied with a broad grin before projecting, “Not only will this cherished token surely bring me favor in the matches, it will also guide me back to you.”

Emma could practically hear Ruby and Mary Margaret swooning beside her (along with every other woman in their section), and she rolled her eyes at his over acting. The Court Jester appeared along the wall of the arena, and Emma was suddenly blinded by an intense spotlight.

“I say, Your Majesty,” The Jester greeted, his voice booming out into the arena over his lapel mic. “Have you succeeded in wooing a fair maiden for her token?”

“I have, indeed,” the Irish King answered. “It will be my honor to fight in Good King Arthur’s tournament with the favor of My Lady Swan to guide me!”

The Irish King gave Emma a devilish grin as The Jester announced, “Let us raise up a _Huzzah_ for the Lady Swan!”

As the rest of their section cried out _Huzzah_ , the Irish King removed his glove and extended his hand. Emma placed hers within his strong, calloused grip, and her breath hitched slightly when he bent over it, placing a soft kiss to the back of her knuckles.

Meeting her eyes he offered her one last smile, twitched his brows at her, and huskily whispered, “Huzzah” before lining up to wait for the other king’s maidens to be announced so the tournament could begin.

“That man just devoured you with his eyes the same way I devoured this chicken,” Mary Margaret sang while fanning herself.

“Hot. Damn,” Ruby murmured in agreement.

“Guys,” Emma exasperated. “It’s just part of the show. He was acting.”

“No one’s acting is that good,” Mary Margaret argued.

“Whatever.” Emma tried to keep her voice light and her expression nonchalant, but she wasn’t feeling bearlyl as calm as she wanted to appear.

It was ridiculous. Emma didn’t go all gaga over men. She didn’t let pretty faces, and smooth lilting voices, and bright dreamy eyes that crinkled in the corner when he smiled at her like he knew all her secrets… _Seriously, Emma?! Get a grip!_

Although she knew the tournament was staged, Emma couldn’t help but appreciate the Irish King’s physicality and skill as he raced his horse around the arena, jousted with the other kings, and wielded his sword with enough precision to lend to the believability that he really was a well trained knight. Each time he won a round he would ride by the section to accept the crowd’s cheers and _huzzahs_ while throwing a wink her way. Each wink would earn her an elbow in the side and a knowing look from Ruby or Mary Margaret… or both.

When the field narrowed itself down, just the Irish King and the Russian Czar were left standing, Emma found herself on the edge of her seat. She excitedly cheered with the rest of her section for her king’s success, pounding on the bar top in front of her and booing the dirty tactics his opponent was employing. Her _huzzahs_ might have been some of the loudest when he was declared the tournament victor, and she’d been so caught up in the moment she almost didn’t noticed one of the dancers trying to get her attention. Excusing herself from Ruby and Mary Margaret, Emma made her way to the aisle to meet the beckoning actress.

“Hi,” the bubbly, redhead greeted. “I’m Ariel. Emma, right?”

“Yeah,” she replied self-consciously, unsure what she was about to get roped into.

“So, what’s about to happen is, there’s this ceremony honoring all the kings, blah, blah, blah, then Killian will be officially named Tournament champion and-”

“Killian?” Emma interrupted.

“Oh, I mean your King. Ireland’s king. His real name’s Killian. Anyway, there will come a point when he’ll ride over and you’re gonna be here on the corner platform to greet him since you’re his fair maiden.”

As Ariel explained the role Emma was expected to play, she’d walked them over to a small jut out on the side of the arena.

“Now, there’s a line where Arthur says something about you gifting your king with a kiss. It’s just a quick peck on the cheek, but if that makes you uncomfortable tell me now and I can signal him to skip that part.”

Emma felt her pulse tick up a notch. She was on edge enough just knowing she was going to have to share such a small platform with the man who made her heart skip every time he winked at her. Now she was being asked to kiss him?

“No, that’s fine,” she blurted out. A little too eagerly, if Ariel’s expression was any indication.

“Great,” the redhead giggled. “Just wait here and play along.”

Ariel left Emma alone on the platform to wait for her knight, _king_ , in shining armor to make his approach after the pomp and circumstance of the next scene was over. She remembered to smile through her nerves when the spotlight illuminated her again, and worked to keep her breathing even when the Irish King, _Killian_ , dismounted and stood before her.

“My Fair Lady Swan,” he began over his mic. “Were it not for your generous token, I may not have found such favor in today’s contest. I thank thee, my lady.”

He gave her back the compass keychain and bowed before her, then King Arthur’s voice rang out.

“Perhaps the fair maiden might reward her valiant king with a kiss?”

Performers around the arena began leading the crowd in a chant for the kiss. Emma could hear Ruby and Mary Margaret’s shouts, egging her on. Her cheeks flushed as she rose herself up on her toes to place a chaste kiss at his cheek, earning a mixture of _awws_ and claps from the crowd. And one _boo_ that sounded exactly like Ruby.

Killian smiled down at her, a cheeky glint in his eye as he asked, “Is that really all my victory today is worth to you? Perhaps a bit more gratitude is in order.” He tapped his lips playfully, as if he were daring her.

“Please,” she scoffed, hoping her tone would mask how flustered he made her. “You couldn’t handle it.”

Impossibly, he stepped even closer before declaring, “Perhaps, you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

The pop of the _t_ is what sealed her decision. Without taking a moment to really think it through, Emma grabbed him by his armor and pulled his lips to hers. It took both him and the crowd a moment to respond, but once they did, it was quite enthusiastic. Catcalls and whistles rang out from the audience as Emma kissed the holy hell out of _her king._ It wasn’t until the spotlight moved off of them and Emma heard the show continuing towards its finale that she came up for air.

“That was,” Killian muttered in a completely wrecked (and now distinctly British) tone, that fortunately was not picked up by his mic, which had mercifully been switched off.

“Probably not the best idea,” Emma panted. Killian’s face fell slightly at her response, so she hurried to add, “I mean. Isn’t this supposed to be a family show?”

Killian chuckled, his beaming grin back in place. “You forget this is Vegas, love. It would take more than that to scandalize this crowd.”

“Like finding out you aren’t as Irish as your name. _Killian_ ,” she teased at his still shifted accent.

“I’m not really a king either, though the armor is real enough.”

“It looks pretty heavy, too.”

“This?” He looked down at his costume, then back up to meet her eyes. That cheeky smirk and brow returned as he confessed, “It’s nothing compared to the pirate costume I had to wear at Treasure Island. The Captain’s duster alone weighed upwards of fifty pounds.”

Emma narrowed her eyes and wet her lips. “You in head to toe pirate leather? I would have liked to have seen that.”

“Well,” he drawled seductively. “Come have dinner at my place some time and you can. They let me keep the costume.”

Emma accepted his dinner invitation, and a week later, she had to admit, he looked pretty damned spectacular in that pirate costume. Almost as good as he looked out of it.

Huzzah!

 

 


End file.
